Time, After Time
by ComicUni
Summary: The Genocide is over, Sans and Frisk have finally won; and they are all alone. But what if there was a way to bring everyone back? Rated M for mature because of language and violence. SansxFrisk. Ambiguous Frisk, no bonezone. Image belongs to rightful owner, UNDERTALE belongs to Toby Fox.
1. Chapter 1: Greetings, To The End

Chapter 1: Greetings To The End.

"You sure about this kid? You have the look of someone that's died over a hundred times," he chuckled. "You even tryin'?" Sans quickly side-stepped a frustrated swipe of the humans knife. The angry glint in their eye was feral. A few more times and maybe they'd finally give up. "Alright then, let's go," he doubted it.

The air crackled with magic, bones rising, blasters firing. After a few stressful minutes of dodging and attacking, he managed to get them down to 1 HP. After the first SPARE he used on them, they never got that far into the fight again. They seemed angier every time they had to LOAD; more reckless. About ten tries ago, they dropped their knife around this time and have done so every time after. At first, they scrambled for it. Now they just stared at the dusted weapon from where they sat, hands only twitching towards it twice.

"Sorry kid," Sans sighed, shattering their soul with a final strike from a bone. They slumped to the side, blood dripping from their mouth under lifeless eyes locked on the discarded knife. Sans closed his eyes, waiting.

In front of him, he could imagine an older Frisk; the kind child that freed monster-kind about thirty timelines ago. Free, under a blanket of stars and the warmth of the sun for ten full years and then thrown into this hell. The human smiled at him, signing a rather punny hello. Sans couldn't smile back. He barely remembered this kid now, fragments of happy times being eaten by the terrible things that damned thing repeatedly did to his friends and family. It was hard to see them as innocent, after seeing their face as they tried to murder him thousands of times. The day of the RESET that sent them into this living nightmare was the only semi-solid memory he had of that timeline.

 _Frisk ran up to him, eyes frantic. There was a smudge of blood at the corner of their mouth and under their nose. Their hands looked broken, fingers twisted the wrong way and they ran with a limp in their right leg. Their jacket was shredded, bruises peeking out of the tears. Before he could ask what happened, they were talking over him. Frisk never talked over anyone, they would barely speak at all, and never above a quiet mutter at best._

 _"I don't want to be bad," they whimpered. "I'll do what I can but you have to help me, Sans. No matter what, you have to stop me. I don't care how you do it, just stop me, please," they ignored his pleas for an explanation. They insisted he promise to help them instead, to do what he had to do._

 _"Okay, buddy, I promise I'll help ya, now would you please tell me what's goin' on?" Sans asked, reaching out to cup their face. They backed away, tears falling from haunted eyes._

 _"I'm so sorry, I can't stop them, the r-resets will start again, and I can't stop them... You... You need to buy me time... Stop me until I can stop them. I'm so sorry Sans, I'm not strong enough, n-not good enough, I'm sorry..." His heart broke as they collapsed into sobs, crumbling to the ground in a heap, weeping out apologies. Sans reached out to pull them into a hug, to beg them to tell him that this was some sick joke they were making. A stupid prank taken too far. And yet, in the next second, he was sitting in his bed back in Snowdin, arms outstretched to the air, magic burning in his eye socket. He screamed, causing Papyrus to practically break down his door to get to him. Sans didn't speak for the rest of that day._

Taking a deep breath, Sans slowly opened his eyes. He gazed down the Judgement Hall once again. Looks like the kid still hadn't given up. This was honestly the most progress he had seen Frisk make before forcing a RESET. He hoped their knowledge was enough this time, that all this would end soon. He waited, trying to hold onto whatever was left of the once unconditional love and trust he had held for this kid. The damned thing doing this to them wasn't Frisk, but another soul he had faced a long time ago, on Frisk's second run through the underground. The soul had possessed them then, and were doing so now. Still, it was hard to separate the two souls when they shared a face. You could only watch the same body kill everyone you had ever loved so many times before you start to hate them.

Their footsteps were delayed and hesitant as they resounded down the hall to him, slowly getting louder. Golden light from the grand hall windows cast a shadow over their face, hiding their eyes. They allowed him to taunt them and ask them to give up before slashing at him. There was a trembling in their hands and their eyes were down cast, avoiding his. He went through the motions, dodging and attacking when needed. Four turns in, the kid dropped their knife. They looked at it, eyes distant. They skipped their turn. Sans smashed them into a pillar and threw them to the floor, refusing to hesitate. The kid struggled to get up, barely able to rise to their knees. He pushed them down the hall, standing between them and their knife. He braced himself for an outraged attack, a fierce and desperate scramble for their weapon.

"Sans..." a trembling, gentle voice called. The human lifted their head to meet his eyes. There, in place of the mad, blood red eyes he had become accostomed to, were the soft tear filled eyes of his once best friend. "Please, help me..." He felt his eyes widen and his shoulders slump.

"Fri-" memories of the determind, wonderful child flooded his skull. Their laughing at his stupid jokes, the one time he had heard them hum, the way they climbed up Papyrus to gently pat his head when he felt discouraged. Their pure, unbridadled kindness towards everyone they met, no matter how cruel. "Frisk?" He asked, magic waning. His very soul trembled.

"They won't stop, please, make it stop!" it was the loudest he had ever heard them speak. Even as a zombie they had spoken quietly. It was hardly to the level of what anyone else could call 'yelling' but for them, it definitely was. He watched them struggle to their feet, trying to keep himself prepared for an attack. "Killing me, letting me RESET... It makes them stronger," They stumbled, barely catching themselves with their hands. "I loved them so much Sans... I didn't want to ever hurt anyone ever again! You know that..." They managed to stand, if a bit off blanace they were at least on their feet. They wrapped their arms aorund themselves in an attempt to stop their shaking. Sans felt his magic waver and then give out. He couldn't do it. That... _Thing_ sure, he could kill that. But Frisk? Real, actual Frisk? He couldn't bring himself to do it. Bones started to disappear back into the pocket of space where he kept them. Blasters faded out, no longer needed. The fire in his eye burnt out, smoldering down to the usual pinpricks. A miniscule ray of hope shone in his heart. Maybe he could actually be useful, do more then just watch and stand judgement for once. "I'm sorry... I couldn't stop them... And now, everyone is..." They hiccupped, a harsh shudder wracking their frame. The skeleton breifly considered going to them but froze when a dark matter oozed from the shadow at the kids feet. Sans felt his instincts spike back into the defensive. This was new; too new. He held no notes of this, he would have made sure to write something like _this_ down. A feeling of wrongness settled into his bones. The matter gathered behind the human, gaining density while still remaining fluid. It took the form of a child similar to Frisk. A pale face, twisted with a mad grin stretched from rosy cheek to rosy cheek. It's blood red eyes too wide for a normal human were framed by a wild mess of brown hair. The matter blended into something similar to Frisks turtle-neck, but green with one, sickly yellow stripe. Everything about this creature screamed maddness and death. Frisk whimpered, covering their ears as the matter rose higher, bushy head brushing the vaulted ceiling.

"Greetings, I am Chara," the matter said, voice gratting on his skull. It cackled, "Knife to meet you, Sans!" the terrible sound of their laughter bounced through the halls, hunted by static. That was the face he was used to seeing, timeline after timeline, brutally murdering his friends and family in cold blood. He remembered, a long time ago, before the ten years on the surface, Frisk had tried to warn him about this 'Chara' character he hadn't known. They went so far as to ask him to take their soul, to prevent everyone from dying. Back then, Sans had already dealt with the time manipulation of another soul and thought he knew everything. Back then, Sans had been an idiot. He had no idea the horror that would take place through the next run. The very first Genocide Run that kid did was far worse than anything that stupid flower had ever put him through. The skeleton gazed into the eyes of the murderous creature.

"Sorry I didn't believe you kid," he sighed, feeling his sins crawl their way up his back. Maybe if he had listened, this wouldn't have happened. But then, if he had listened, all the good that came of it also wouldn't have happened. It was hard for him to decide if the kids fuckery with time was worth it or not. Magic swelled in his chest. "But don't worry, Ol'Sansy here will fix everything," Finally seeing his true target in a form he could actually attack filled him with what meager determination he had left. The fire in his eye flared back to life, filling the air with electricity. Frisk raised their head, eyes shining with their own determination.

"Sorry 'Sansy', but you can't kill me without killing them!" Chara laughed wildly. It reveled in their presumed triumph, grin widening. Sans' eyes met the determind humans and nodded to them. They visibly gathered themselves up, pushing away their fear, and nodded back. It was time to test their, hopefully final, theory on how to get rid of this damned thing for good.

Since the first of the Genocide Runs, the skeleton had been doing an endless amount of research into how a dead soul could posses a living. Humans weren't meant to absorb the souls of other humans but humans themselves had stories about cases of possesion. During his time in the surface, he and Frisk had spent some time looking into those stories, finding proof and creating theories. Back then, Sans had noted, Frisk hadn't been good with science; they hated the subject. They just didn't seem to get it, but that was an asset at times. They asked all the right questions, things he never thought to question were put into perspective by his human friend. For some reason, once the Genocides started again, their affinity for science sky rocketed and they became a genious. They asked all their questions like before, but now they seemed to have a deeper understanding of even the most complicated workings of space, time, chemistry, everything he could imagine, they knew like the back of their hand. With passed notes that an amused Chara allowed to be read and written, through the past thirty timelines they had worked it out. This part Sans hadn't told Frisk, since what they knew Chara would also know. Frisk simply passed information onto Sans, hoping he could figure out a solution and trusting that he was trying for that. One of their first notes, however, had been 'spend time with Pap'. They left him it every RESET, to remind him that, even if everything was shit, he should at least make sure his brother knows he loves him before he dies. He thanked them for that.

With the knowledge he had gained, he could see the sickness in the glow of Frisks soul, the way the cracks from the damage he had caused seemed to hide the thin, thorn covered vines that gripped the heart-shaped soul. Chara, the embodiment of hatred and chaos, clutched Frisks soul as a life line. Without Frisk, Chara was nothing but a bad dream. They had tried to remove Chara before and then fix things, but once the RESET happened Chara was back. Sans had to figure out a way to destroy Chara completely. Andwhat better way to kill a ghost, he reasoned, then to give it a proper soul again? He flashed the kid a smile. "C'mere kiddo," Sans opened his arms to Frisk, waving them over. Suppressing a shudder, they ran to him. There was a snap as the ooze separated from the stumbling child. Chara screeched in outrage.

"No! Come back here!" it cried, face contorting into an animalistic snarl. Frisk hit him with a thud, small hands desperatly gripping the back of his jacket on contact. They trembled in his embrace, too terrified to think clearly. Their job was done, they overpowered Chara and managed to coax the creature out and off of their tiny body. Now it was all up to Sans. He tried to not let the stress get to him; he never had been all that great in stressful situations.

"Hey bud, it's okay," he tried, voice low and soothing. Well, as soothing as he could make it; a slight tremble still came through his tone. "You're safe now, I've got'cha," He pet their head gently and they seemed to relax a little. He wouldn't admit he found the oddly familiar action to be calming in it's own way. Chara howled with fury. Its streem of uninteligable anger went unnoticed as Sans carefully cupped Frisks shinning red soul with shaky hands. "This might hurt a bit, okay kid?" they nodded againt his chest and braced themselves. With a deep breath, Sans began to gingerly remove the plague on Frisks soul. Chara stopped trying to speak and began to scream instead, twisting with the pain. The child in his arms merely flinched and held onto him tighter. He couldn't believe how brave they were, dealing with all this bullshit. He would have given up a long time ago if not for this kid. They whimpered into his coat and shuddered when a thorn snagged. Steeling his heart against their pain, Sans painstakingly removed the invader from Frisks soul. This wasn't about him or about the kid, this was about an entire race, maybe even the world. He couldn't let that thing keep going. He was a judge afterall, it was his job to put down corrupt souls like this thing.

Chara wailed with pain, thrashing about violently. Sans ignored it and finally tugged the damned thing out of the poor kid. They slumped into him, barely staying on their feet. He didn't have time to help them. Without hesitating, Sans burned away the thread with more then a hint of matter began to deterioate, falling away in chunks and fadeing into nothing. He snatched it with blue magic, forcing it to stay together. With his other hand he pulled out a jar with a red soul and crushed it between his fingers to roughly wrap the soul in magic and plunge it into the matter. Holding onto Frisk protectivly with one arm he forced the ooze and soul to stay together. Sweat beaded on the back of his skull, magical energy draining quickly. An agonized shriek filled the air as the matter folded in on the soul, desperately fighting for some form of life to keep it together. Sans watched the matter compact, gaining density around the soul. It shrank down to the size of a child, the shrieks and howls shifting into wails and sobs. With one final cry, a light flashed, blinding the skeleton.

Silence decended.


	2. Chapter 2: Souls Relief

Chapter 2: Souls Relief

Silence descended, deafening after the assault of noise. Dazed, Sans struggled to focus his blurred vision on the crouched form of a child where the matter had been. He let his magic fall away, panting heavily at the exertion. He really should have been training all these years, this was ridiculous. He remembered a time where he could use magic like this for days at a time and not even be winded by the attempt. Pathetic. Frisk whimpered and he hugged them tighter. It wasn't over yet; the new child was climbing to their feet. Sans prepared himself for anything. They were off balance and clumsy, body too new to their old soul. The new child retained their green and yellow sweater, now in black trousers and sneakers as well. Their hair was wild and unkempt, blocking their face from his view. Sans squinted, he wanted to get a look in their eyes. If they looked sane then maybe this wouldn't have to end in blood just yet, maybe with their soul back the madness would leave. It was a far-fetched theory with no evidence behind it, just something Frisk had asked him to look for if he ever met the "real" Chara. God that human really could be so forgiving. To think they would want to help this demonic bastard after everything they'd done. Oh well, he could at least look. Tired red eyes met his as the new child raised their head in confusion. They looked surprised to be conscious, let alone actually alive. A red soul floated at their chest, dim and sickly in comparison to the one he knew so well from Frisk. Said child struggled in his arms, wanting to look at what had him so still. He squeezed them tightly, whispering an order to stay still and not look. They must have heard something in his voice because they stilled and held him tighter around his ribs anxiously.

Understanding dawned in Chara's features, eyes falling to their soul. Shaking hands cupped the red heart in front of them. "A... Soul?" They croaked, throat unused before now. They began to tremble, a small smile spreading on their lips. Unlike before, it looked remarkably normal. No strange pulling or unusual twist. Perhaps... No, he wouldn't hold hope. Not yet. "My soul?" Chara gaped, gaze jumping all around them in a confused state. "How?" the new child's eyes rested on Sans, demanding an answer. The skeleton shrugged.

"That's right," He forced a grin. "Your very own soul. Found it awhile back just lyin' around," Sans didn't mention where he'd found it, or that a certain little flower was the one that showed him where it was. As much as he hated that damn weed, it had been useful and helped him. He could spare him the hatred of his oldest friend at the very least. Chara squinted at him suspiciously. After a moment of glaring, they turned back to their soul. Sans watched carefully, noticing the way they tilted down their head so he couldn't see their eyes. Just as he was about to ask them if something was wrong, they started to shake. A soft rumbling came from the child, growing louder with each passing second. Chara threw back their head in hysterical laughter, voice ringing through the hall. Malice dripped from their tone and Sans feared the worse. Sure enough, mad red eyes met his again, face twisted in a sadistic smile that stretched their face unnaturally. Rosy cheeks were flushed more then normal, making their face seem paler. Insanity seeped into Chara like water to a sponge, filling them until their eyes glowed with hatred.

"You idiot! Now I can just kill you myself!" They cackled loudly, confident in their non-existent ability to fight. Chara hadn't noticed their LOVE, they simply assumed that their strength was superior to his own. They did not see the measly 20 HP they had, nor the 0 LV and EXP. Their madness was all their own. They charged, no weapon in hand, sheer insanity and idiocy driving them forward without thought. "I'll cut you both to pieces!" They cried, eyes too wide and unblinking as they ran to close the distance with that twisted smile showing too many teeth. They didn't notice their lack of speed or stamina, didn't feel their heavy breaths that he could so clearly see them struggling to take. Their body was too new, too young. They weren't used to physical restraints anymore. He would have pitied the creature if they weren't still intent on killing him and Frisk. Summoning his magic in his chest, Sans let his rage fill him. Several Blasters blinked into existence, creating a wall between him and the demon child. Chara stumbled to a halt, mad smile replaced with terror. The hell beasts growled with their master.

"That's right," they said with him, a condemning rumble; an avalanche of boulders down a snow covered mountain. Somehow quiet while retaining an unknowable level of threat. Chara shrieked, backing away from the demonic skulls on shaky legs. Bones rose from the floor behind them, blocking their retreat and effectively capturing them in a cage of death. Sans felt no remorse for how cruel the situation appeared. "Your very own soul," he smiled with his Blasters, their menacing fangs strangely not as horrifying as his own below the empty sockets that remained trained on their target, one burning blue with intent. "With your own mortal life," the demon collapsed to a kneel with the force behind the words, dread etching into the madness on their features in a strange twist of their lips and the furrow of their brow.

"I'll just come back!" the poor child screamed at the monstrous skulls, trying to watch them and Sans at the same time. The skeleton chuckled darkly, his weapons echoing him.

"With Frisks determination?" his grin widened almost painfully as the skulls continued to laugh. Chara's face drained of all colour, mouth working to make some argument but found there was none to be made. They note their stats with a startled gaze. Horror crashed into them, knocking them back to their bottom. They scrambled back, body stopping an inch before the bone bars that held them captive. They cast around frantically, looking for some way out. But there was no way out. He'd made sure of that. "Sorry brat, but I think the kid wins this time," Sans could both feel and hear the venom in his voice, teeth parting to flash in his own magics flare in a show of malicious intent. High pitched whines overlaid one another as his Blasters charged. Chara screamed pleas, begging him to call off his hounds. Sans simply smiled, all but glowing in the white-hot fire of his weapons. He raised his hand and pointed to the bastard child as a silent order to the hell beasts. The skulls fired, a blinding light that filled his sights but Sans didn't close his eyes. He heard the demon cry for help and knew that no one would come. There was no one left to go to them, no one to care. Their yells of pain were consumed by the blasts, far more powerful then what was actually necessary. And yet the skeleton found that he couldn't help himself. He wanted to be sure. The damned creature was slippery, he needed no chances for survival. After all, what goes around comes around. If this thing never offered mercy, then why should he? What they had done was unforgivable. If he was being completely honest he didn't even mean the Genocide. While it was horrific and terrible, he didn't see that it could have never been forgiven, had they just RESET and tried to make things right. He knew why they did what they did, it was in his notes, as clear as day. He understood their hatred towards humans, he could grasp their reasons behind a Genocide to a race that wasn't at fault for their pain. He could understand lashing out. What made him so angry, had caused him so much hatred for the demon, was that they used Frisk to commit the crimes. The human was completely innocent, they had never done anything wrong, always trying to be kind and gentle no matter what life threw their way. And this fucking thing had stolen their body as a creature of darkness and insanity and forced them to destroy what they loved most. The only family they had ever known, the only creatures they could call friends, killed by their own hands without control. The poor child would never be the same. There would always be a hint of sorrow, age and pain to their gaze now. They would always be tired, dark bags under their eyes a normal thing and a slight twitch to their fingers ignored. They would suffer from nightmares worse than ever before, taste dust on their tongue and hear the screams of innocent people for the rest of their days. The child had experienced enough trauma without this son of a whore making it a million times worse. A dozen more Blasters blinked into being and joined the fray, charged by his fury at the thrice damned being.

When the skulls ceased firing and the hall returned to it's former golden glow, Sans watched the old red soul that was Chara finally break into pieces and fall into dust. Exhaustion saturated his bones in a thick layer of what felt to be grime. He had expected to feel triumphant, satisfied, something good. Yet the skeleton felt only like he wanted to sleep. He prayed to whatever god there may be that the demon child would remain dead this time, never to return. One by one the hell beasts faded out of existence as their purpose had been fulfilled. The cage of femurs returned to their pocket of space where they belonged, waiting to be needed again. The child in his arms trembled, hands clapped over their ears in a desperate attempt to block out at least one creatures dying howl. Tears streamed down their face, uncontrolled and free after fuck knows how long being held back. Sans screwed his eyes shut against his own tears, smile falling at last. With shaking hands he pet Frisks hair gently, attempting to give some form of comfort for the frightened. Man was he fucked up. The kid set him on edge, even after killing the true enemy. It wasn't their fault, he knew, but still his hands trembled slightly and he couldn't quite relax the way he wanted. He hoped that it would pass with time as he got used to Frisk being themselves again. A small part of him knew, however, that the child would still frighten him at times no matter how familiar they would become with the other. With a sob, Sans with the other survivor, clutching them desperately to his chest, unwilling to lose another soul to the unknown horrors of the world. Quiet whimpers filled the air of the tranquil and destroyed Judgement Hall. Orange light cast through grand windows dulls and no longer magnificent to look at.

The demon had finally passed on.


	3. Chapter 3: The Wonderful Doctor

Chapter 3: The Wonderful Doctor

Sans leaned back against a pillar, Frisk curled up in his lap after crying themselves to sleep. Considering what the kid had been through, the skeleton was content to let them sleep in peace. Sans didn't have all of his memories from the past timelines. There were bits and pieces of the more important events, most of them fairly traumatic to say the least. A few random ones would float to the surface at times, something silly like a pillow fight or watching Mettaton on TV with his brother. A voice every now and then, usually a scream but sometimes it was something encouraging in a kind or gentle voice. He never remembered much in the first place, but the toll of the past hundred or so timelines had worn him down so he could recall even less than usual. His notes didn't hold much beyond simple facts, there was no emotion in them. Everything was clinical and plain, no jokes or anything beyond the straight forward. Precise letters printed neatly in a language only he knew, one that could never be deciphered coherently without his knowledge, filled each page with dates and grim reality. It was how he kept anything straight when a RESET would happen. He couldn't afford to mix feelings in with his notes, it made them too questionable. Even so, there were notes about various monsters and humans that he had met so he could see if they remained consistent. One of the attributes of Frisk that he had recorded was that they were neither clingy nor needy. They were a completely independent child, fully capable of handling themselves. A kid of few words, they made their way through life with confidence and determination. Another note was that they rarely cried and that if they did then it was never much. A few sniffles, some crocodile tears, and then on life would go. The Frisk he held now was no longer the same child.

After they had crumpled to the ground in exhaustion and pain together, Frisk had not stopped crying. They sobbed out apologies, whimpered incoherent explanations and bawled harder whenever he would move so much as an inch from their embrace. They told him that they understood if he couldn't stand them, that it was okay if he wanted to leave and never go near them again. He did his best to assure them that he didn't hate them and that he wouldn't leave but it didn't halt their tears. They keened softly, mourning all those that had died in one overwhelming delayed reaction. They had always been this way, at least. Blaming themselves for the misdoings of another, convinced that it was their fault for not being good enough to keep it from happening. They were real hard on themselves. A distant memory floated up from the base of his skull.

Monster Kid had a black eye from some asshole human kid at his school. Frisk had run to his rescue so that the monster could escape, consequently having the pulp beat soundly out of them. The bully had apparently decided that nearly killing Frisk was satisfying enough, and had left before Sans found them on the ground, struggling to pick themselves up from the dirt. Monster Kid had found him first, the little dinosaur frantic with worry for his human friend. When they managed to get Frisk home and healed up enough for them to function, they started crying at the sight of their friends abused eye. Forget the fact that they were covered in their own blood and bruised all to shit, they insisted that they should have been faster to save him, taking full responsibility for his injuries. When the skeleton pointed out that they were wrongfully taking the blame from the bully, they told him that the kid was just scared because he didn't understand and he shouldn't be held accountable for something like that.

"People do silly things when they're afraid," they declared. Therefore, being the calm one that intervened, they were at fault for not being quicker to break up the fight. Sans had never been so frustrated with his little friend.

Sans shook his head, how could a kid like that not be completely torn apart at the prospect of hurting, let alone killing, another being? The answer was that they were. Frisk was now completely and utterly broken, never thinking to place guilt in the hands of the rightful owner. It broke his heart to see the innocent one accepting the burden of the death of an entire race when it was not theirs to claim. He tried to convince them otherwise, presenting obvious evidence to support his argument, but they were having none of it. They held themselves accountable and that was that, end of discussion. They had been asleep for awhile now, though Sans wasn't sure exactly how long. Lacking any kind of clock made it hard to tell time in the Underground, and the Judgement Hall had an ever present appeal of dawn. As far as he knew, it could be deep in the middle of the night, or perhaps it was noon the next day already, half the day eaten up by the stressful fight and the inconsolable human child in his grasp.

Sans laid his head on top of Frisks, thoroughly exhausted and yet unable to sleep. Even with his eyes closed he did not feel the usual call of slumber. He felt only disquiet. Yes the enemy was defeated. Yes they had won the grueling fight and he had been correct about Chara not being able to RESET with Frisk around. Yes, he should be happy, basking in his well deserved triumph over evil. He didn't. Despite having won and protecting those that were left of the monster race, Sans just couldn't bring himself to feel good about it. People had died and there was no getting them back. His once loving family and friends had been wiped from existence with the swipe of a weapon that he couldn't stop. His ever loving brother would never nag him again, he would never smile behind his hand at Sans' puns when he pretended to hate the shorter ones jokes. He would never have to eat that barely edible spaghetti again. The short skeleton wanted nothing more then to eat that terrible pasta right now, ask for thirds and just hug his taller brother until the end of time. Papyrus wouldn't complain, he'd easily carry Sans around with him all the time if he was allowed. He chuckled at that thought. The idea of the tall skeleton carrying around a short one 24/7 was pretty hilarious. He would never eat at Grillbyz if that were the case though; Papyrus said that the food there was too greasy and unhealthy, he said it was the main reason Sans was so lazy. Oh, if only he had known the real reason for his laziness. Pap would have stopped smiling if he knew and he couldn't allow that.

"S-Sans?" A timid, shaky voice stuttered out, pulling Sans from his musings. Opening his eyes, he grinned at Alphys. Standing a cautious ten feet away on the other side of the hall, the lizard monster fidgeted, eyeing the human he held warily. He waved slowly in greeting, too tired to talk unless necessary. She swallowed and visibly steeled herself before opening her mouth again. "Why... Is that th-thing in your... your l-lap?" she asked nervously, frightened of the answer. She looked a little angry. It was subdued by her fear and uncertainty, but it was deffinetely there. As far as she knew, the slumbering child in his arms was the murderer of everyone she had ever loved and swore to protect. The woman she loved dearly had died trying to kill said child. Of course she would be seething under those yellow scales. However, Alphys was still Alphys and she could not stop her inherent nervousness from getting the better of her.

"It's okay Alphys," he sighed, not feeling up for the questions he was undoubtedly going to get. "This is Frisk. Everything that happened wasn't their fault," he explained, suddenly feeling protective. Once upon a parallel, Alphys and him had been pretty good friends. In this thread however, they had barely spoken after he had left the lab behind and moved to Snowdin. She didn't know anything about him besides what she had seen on her monitors and what Undyne and Papyrus had told her. It felt a little wrong that he knew so much about the woman. In this parallel, he had only Frisk. He'd be damned if he was going to let something happen to them now, after everything they had both been through together. No, he wasn't letting go of this particular person. Not now, not ever. The lizard balked and demanded a complete explanation from him with an intensity he associated with one that had nothing left to lose. He sighed and gestured towards her vaguely. "Just watch the footage, Al. From when they walked into the Hall, should explain enough," he laid his head on the childs, really not feeling capable of dealing with another soul right now. He couldn't give his old friend back her most loved person and knew what would happen if she was left alone without a purpose. She was a lot like Frisk, simply taking responsibility for evil acts that weren't hers. He just couldn't understand it. The monster tired to get him to talk but after being ignored for several minutes, she huffed and took out her phone to watch what had happened. The advanced technology had a large enough screen to view videos comfortably, buttons designed specifically with her claws in mind and could wirelessly connect to her computer within seconds. He remembered an explanation about how that last part worked but he couldn't quite get the details from the memory so he shrugged it off. It wasn't important anyway.

He closed his eyes and listened to the sounds from the cell. It was surprisingly good quality but of course it would be. Alphys didn't have the patience for crappy tech. She gasped when Frisk dropped the knife, muttering about how it didn't make sense for them to do that. When the kid started to talk, he was surprised by how... destroyed they sounded. He heard a distinct, yet still quiet, "that's bullshit" from Alphys at the childs pleas. Sans couldn't hold back his protective growl as he hugged Frisk just slightly more firmly to him. The monster seemed to be too caught up in the events of the battle to hear him. By now he could hear the laughter of the demonic ooze as they introduced themselves and mocked him with a terrible pun. She remained quiet through Chara's ramblings about desolation and death, condemning themselves without restraint despite how Sans held their very existence in his bony fingers. When the screaming started to raise in volume, he placed a careful hand, padded with his jacket for added effect, over Frisks ear. They didn't need to hear that again. Alphys made a confused and startled sound when silence hit the handheld device. Even through a playback it seemed so sudden, so heavy, to the skeleton. He could practically feel the lizard holding back screams of bewilderment when Chara's voice creaked out of the speakers, seeming too quiet after the terrible howls from a moment before. He felt the shift from innocent, lost child to demonic whore-monger the moment it happened. The vile creatures hysterics washed over him and he checked to make sure Frisk was still asleep. They were. When his voice finally came again, he was shocked to hear how calm and rough it was. He had been in utter turmoil that he barely managed to suppress that he wasn't sure how he managed to sound so confident. Like a judge sentencing a criminal to death without mercy or remorse. He huffed at his analogy. He was a judge, they were in the Judgement Hall. Of course he'd sound that way. The voices of his Blasters, however, were mildly disturbing. They spoke with or just after him, echoing his words in ominous, grave voices that were just as detached as him and yet somehow not as dangerous. They were merely deaths scythe, finalizing his penalty upon the guilty party and nothing more. Although they sounded frightening, he could feel Alphys' eyes trained on him as his final words rolled out of the device, the final sentence to the demonic child. She was seeing him in a new light, one that even the other Alphys' hadn't seen. And she found him terrifying. The whines of his weapons had to be muted, the monster muttering about blowing the speakers with the hideous noise. The sound came back when he collapsed into tears with the innocent kid that wouldn't let him go. He waited for her to speed through the rest, looking for anything suspicious or dangerous. An audible click, followed by silence, was his sign that she was done.

Tension built atop itself but Sans was too drained to break it with a joke. Instead he sat and waited for Alphys to gather her courage. When she did, it was to express her confusion. The skeleton considered asking if she could deal without an explanation until he felt better but decided against it. As a scientist, not knowing something was the bane of her existence. He could relate, and so readied himself to delve into as much explanation as the lizard would require.

"Al, do you understand the theory of time travel and parallel universes being connected?" he asked, pushing down old feelings of regret. Now was not the time. He gazed at the monster until she gave him a nervous affirmative nod. After a deep breath, he continued. "It's not really my secret to tell, it's the kids, but I know they planned to tell you anyway so it should be fine," he was rambling, he knew. He couldn't help it. How did you look someone in the eye and tell them that some random human kid could travel through time and never, ever die? Just because they had the unwavering will to live and move forward? After another moment of quiet, Alphys walked a little closer.

"U-um, you don't have to give d-details, I just want t-to understand..." the monster explained, trying to give him an encouraging smile. "I-I can always ask th-them later, for the d-details I m-mean, since it's their th-thing?" she seemed uncertain but he could tell she was trying her hardest to make this slightly easier on him. With a heavy sigh, Sans told her about the RESETS. He didn't tell her everything, just the basic knowledge of it. The kid fell down and had so much will to live that they could do something called SAVE and LOAD. They could also RESET if they felt the needed to. He resolved to not tell her how many RESETS happened, nor exactly why. Like his notes, he needed to keep everything very cold.

"A SAVE is a fixed point in time that they can return to," he explained when prompted. "A LOAD is when they return to the most recent SAVE they had made. For example, if they died," Alphys cringed, already putting the pieces together. Sans pretended he hadn't noticed. "They would wake up at their most recent SAVE point. Between the time they die, and the time they LOAD however, there is a second where they can choose to RESET, which returns them to their very first SAVE when they had fallen into the ruins," Alphys nodded along, understanding the childs ability with ease. It wasn't a complicated thing really, it sounded insane but it wasn't difficult to grasp. "From what we figured out, their determination is what allows them to do it. You know that the red soul of determination is the most rare and that about 0.01% of the human population has such a soul. They are the first human to have their ability, and hopefully the last," he grumbled, not wishing to ever meet another creature capable of such a thing. It started with a flower, the weakest piece of garbage he had ever known, and then it was this child. A small part of him felt humiliated for being tortured by such innocent little things. Another was relieved that they were naive and simple. The skeleton did not want to think about what a fully grown, evil creature would do with that sort of power. "Some things can survive through the, uh... Rewinds," he groaned inwardly at his word choice. Really? Rewinds? That's too cheesy, even for him. "There is a specific element that can withstand it and somehow remain the same. Something made with this element can age like the time never went back. There are also memories. Ever have nightmares, Al? When you'd see people die, or feel yourself be cut up, before any of this ever happened?" When she started to fidget, the skeleton nodded. "Memories survive, but the conscious self is not capable of withstanding the knowledge, so it hides deep in the mind for most people. I still remember other timelines, but they're broken up and hard to see. Like trying to remember what you had for breakfast when you were two, and you're now ninety," the monster moved closer during his explanation, focusing on his words. Eyes fixed to him, she didn't seem to notice that he'd be able to touch her if he leaned forward a little. Sans didn't point it out.

"Okay but that doesn't explain the other child..." She muttered, deep in thought. "What was their name?"

"Chara," the skeleton provided with a shrug. "A long time ago, they were the adopted human kid of the king and queen. You know about Asriel right? Chara used to be his sibling," Alphys jumped, glancing around her in fear. With no threat to be seen, she looked unnerved rather than relaxed. He couldn't blame the monster. "It's a human thing I think, the whole coming back as a murderous creature thing," he chuckled, humour twisted and disgusting now that he had lived for so long and been through so much. That being said, he still didn't find it funny, just ironic. "Figure it's part of how their souls last after death. Whatever they felt as they died can translate into something else if it's strong enough. Chara felt betrayed and vengeful, and because of that they managed to give a shadow, their shadow, a solidity to cling on to. It was pretty smart honestly, since shadows are everywhere. They waited for years for someone like Frisk to fall down the hole and used them to take revenge," Sans shrugged, leaning his head back against the pillar to take in the vaulted ceiling of the Hall. It was strange to feel so familiar with this place. If he actually thought about the proper timeline, he'd only stood judgement maybe twice before Frisk showed up. He had always found it rather pretty and inviting, a calm place with the colour scheme designed specifically by Asgore himself to signify beginnings and ends. Something new could blossom hear as easily as an end. Just took the right person to handle that new start. It all seemed somewhat dull now. To his eyes, empty or bright, it all looked so... old. He felt old. Just a pile of bones, bleached white from weather, aged and tired. "Their soul was taken by Asriel though, so when he died then their soul should have as well, but it didn't. It just disappeared. Still don't know why," he frowned into the high shadows. They had solved so many mysteries, but the reason behind the existence of that flower, Chara's soul surviving all these years and the lack of notes on such a thing irked the skeleton. He hated not knowing something so important. Maybe the kid knew? He could ask them later.

"O-okay but... Why this one? There w-were other humans that fell, why n-not them?"

"Because," Came a soft, timid voice. Sans' head snapped down to see the kid sitting up, looking at the lizard with a small, sorrowful smile. "I... I can't die..." they murmured, head down to stare at their upturned hands. He hadn't even felt them move to sit up, when had they done that? "Would you... Pass up... An opportunity like... that?"


	4. Chapter 4: The Lambs Forgiveness

Chapter 4: The Lambs Forgiveness

"O-okay but... Why this one? There w-were other humans that fell, why n-not them?"

"Because," Came a soft, timid voice. Sans' head snapped down to see the kid sitting up, looking at the lizard with a small, sorrowful smile. "I... I can't die..." they murmured, turning head down to stare at their upturned palms. He hadn't even felt them move to sit up, when had they done that? "Would you... Pass up... An opportunity like... that?" the child asked, clenching a small fist. "Nothing would... Be able to stop you... Ever again... And if something tried... You just go back... And learn from your mistake... There is no wrong, no mistakes... You are the strongest... The best... Always..." they seemed so sad. Sans could see them taking all the guilt upon themselves without question.

"I... I don't understand?" Alphys stuttered. Frisk smiled up at her, hands falling back to their lap. Fathomless patience could be seen in their eyes, so understanding for one so young.

"You are good... Good people... Do not think... Like that," despite struggling to speak, the child was not frustrated like he would have been. Their natural way of speaking was with their hands, not their voice. They greatly disliked being heard unless completely necessary. Sans supposed that this time, it was. "Think like this... If someone you loved... Were to... To die... You could go back... And stop them... From dying... You could help... Everyone... Never say the... Wrong thing... Always know what's right... To make someone... Someone happiest," they smiled at the understanding on the monsters face, looking a little relieved that their explanation was enough.

"O-Oh! I get it! If you hurt someones feelings and you liked them, then you could just LOAD and make it better next time! U-um... R-right?" Frisk nodded, and Alphys smiled brightly at having understood properly. Gradually, the smile faded to a frown. "But if someone wanted to be bad and kill a monster... They could learn every attack... Every timing... They... Oh my god..." the woman trailed off with a horrified expression.

"They would be unstoppable," Sans finished for her. The child nodded gravely. They would know best; after all, the demon had been controlling them. Silence fell around them. Alphys seemed to realize how close she'd gotten to the child but was too embarrassed to move away now that they were awake. Minutes ticked by at an agonizing rate, filled with a nervously twitching lizard woman, until Sans finally had enough. "How you feelin' pal?" he asked the child still sitting in his lap. They hadn't moved to get up, and the skeleton was content to have them so easily within his reach.

[Sore] they signed with their hands, rolling a shoulder for emphasis. He chuckled.

"Sorry bud, an old bag of bones like me probably isn't a very good pillow, I'm a little bony y'know," they giggled into their hand and he smiled. Not many people liked his terrible jokes, but Frisk did. He heard Alphys sigh and couldn't stop himself from grinning up at her. "What? My jokes are sans-sational and you know it," the human laughed into their arm, trying to be quiet. The lizard groaned, shaking her head. "Awe c'mon, Alphys. All Iguana do is make you laugh," with that, the monster threw up her hands and marched off towards her lab in frustration, picking her way around the rubble. Laughing out right, Sans and Frisk got to their feet and followed behind. The skeleton shouted puns to her retreating back, followed by Frisks uncontrolled giggles. He half expected the monster to slam the doors in their faces when they reached the lab in Hotland but instead she invited them in with an irritated wave of her clawed hand. He didn't miss the tiny smile on her face when she turned away though.

The lizard moved around her lab, cleaning up in the effort to keep busy. She called Asgore and told him all was well now, Sans had stopped the evil human, but they still had some things to go over later in private. At one point, Frisk started making puns to their skeleton friend with their Sign Language. His favourite so far was [do you like past-your-eyes milk?]. He'd laughed so hard he had started to tear up. When Alphys questioned his reaction, he calmed down long enough to explain only to fall back into rolls of rumbling laughter. The kid had made the sign for milk and moved it across their eyes, smile bright with anticipation. He told them that he'd steal that joke for himself one day and they just nodded happily, pleased to have contributed to his comedy act. When he fully recovered, he started helping Alphys clean up. He was surprised when the child didn't move to do so as well but they looked pretty tired so he just shrugged it off. That is, until Alphys yelped something about blood and rushed over to lift Frisk off the floor where they had presumably fallen back asleep. Sure enough, a thick coating of blood layered the humans right leg and had formed a small puddle under them. Panic gripped his soul and he immediately searched through all of Alphys' things to find what he needed. He mixed chemicals to create a disinfectant he hoped was strong enough, and handed it to Alphys to hold. He barked at her to not touch the human and to instead monitor their breathing. She shakily agreed and kneels next to the child to keep watch. The skeleton had never moved so fast in his life, running through the lab to collect a poor excuse for a med kit. He tore up a clean looking bed sheet for bandages, grabbed three bottles of water from the fridge, found some extremely thin wire and a tiny metal pick that he sharpened to a razor point before bending it slightly to be rounded. Supplies in his arms, he dropped to Frisks side and gently lifted the hem of their shorts so he could take in the full wound. It was awful. A large gash spread like a smile from the front of their thigh to the back, right down to the bone. Cursing colourfully, he waved Alphys back so he had full control over the area and began to work. Old memories kicked in from both his time in the labs and above ground. He cleaned the wound with a wet piece of cloth, wiping down their leg and then placing the soiled fabric under them so the wound wouldn't sit on the cold bloody tiles. He hesitated before pouring the home-made disinfectant over the wound. Frisk arched, hissing in pain and slamming their fist into the floor, shattering tile. Sans hurriedly grabbed their hands and told them to be still as gently as he could, apologizing for the pain. Face screwed up but still, he released the human and quickly disinfected the wire and needle with what was left of the liquid.

"Sorry about this kid, gonna hurt you some more," he said, flashing them an apologetic smile before sewing up the gash with practiced ease. The human immediately whimpered and hit the tiles again but they didn't move their leg so he kept going until the wound was fully stitched up. Disinfecting the wound one last time with the last few drops, Sans then wrapped the cloth around their leg tight enough to stem anymore blood loss without actually cutting off blood flow to their feet. Tying the fabric together so it wouldn't unravel, the skeleton leaned back on his heels and sighed. The child panted, no longer conscious. He wanted to scream. Something so dire had gone right over his fucking head. How? They had been asleep in his lap, how had he not been soaked with blood for fuck sake? Judging by the state of their shorts, they had probably been hold the fabric tight around the wound to slow down what they must have assumed would be their death.

"What... What happened?" Alphys whispered, too afraid of the skeleton to disturb him.

"I don't know yet. Do you mind if they borrow some of your clothes Al? I'll get them new ones, but these are ruined," he muttered, gesturing to the worn fabric. He heard the monster scuttle away and return moments later with a clean shirt. She apologized for not having trousers; she wore dresses all the time because of her tail. He waved it off and thanked her, preparing to take the child to his home in Snowdin to rest until Alphys stuttered out an invitation to stay at the lab for the night. "It would be s-safer for them, r-right? And we still need to t-talk to Asgore... You'll h-have to come back a-anyway," mulling it over, Sans couldn't really see a reason to not stay so he accepted and carried the kid where he was directed. The monster gave them her bed and left before he could object. With a shake of his head, Sans changed the kid and put them in the bed for some, hopefully, proper rest. The skeleton laid a gentle hand on the childs forehead and filled them with what meager healing magic he could muster. That sort of gentle, kind magic had never really been easy for him, it was more Papyrus' thing. Still, he could use a little and even if it didn't do much for Frisk, he at least wanted to try. A soft blue glow surrounded the human briefly, fading away as quickly as it came. He hoped that it would help at least a little and slid to the floor with his back against the bed. Staring up at the ceiling, the skeleton worked through his memories to see if he could find where the human may have sustained such a terrible blow. After a while of that, he let out a frustrated sigh and dropped his face into his hands. Perhaps it had happened in the middle of battle or before they even got to him. He couldn't recall a particularly bad hit from himself but there was no guarantee that a bone hadn't done more damage then he had thought it would. He was a lot stronger now then he once was after all; he didn't really know his full strength yet. Maybe he should think about training again. Maybe.

Sans leaned back to rest his head against the bed but stopped midway. Gazing down at his hands, the skeleton wiggled his phalanges cautiously. The usually white bone was stained a dark crimson, almost burgundy colour. A shudder ran up his spine, followed by the claws of his sins as they crawled up his back. His breathing constricted. Images flashed before his eyes, tainted red.

 _Frisk sat next to him at the bar, grinning brightly at his jokes and nodding along to his stories with an enthusiasm he wasn't used to, but found invigorating._

 ** _Frisks lifeless eyes gazed at the vaulted ceiling of the Hall, not able to notice the skeleton kneeling beside them._**

 _Frisk joining in on his fun with teasing Papyrus and playing various fun pranks on their friends, like leaving little pink figures of bunnies all over Undynes house._

 ** _Frisks slack mouth hung slightly open in a frown, blood dripping from the corner, not able to respond to his plea._**

 _Frisk stood in front of his hot dog stand in Hotland, thirty hot dogs balanced precariously on their head, a triumphant smile on their face._

 ** _Frisks pale cheeks showed tear tracks, a few droplets still lingering at the very edges of their eyes, bringing no comfort to his pained soul._**

 _Frisk sat on the cliff beside him, eyes on the horizon to watch the colours dance into the blinking stars, their first sunset fading into a vast universe above._

 _ **Frisks blood-matted hair hid part of their face from his gaze.**_

 _Frisk struggled to carry a large log that would be used in the building of their new home. They smiled widely when he used his magic to lighten their load for them._

 _ **Frisks torn up sweater did nothing to hide the bruises and cuts he had inflicted**._

 _Frisk hastily asking for permission to have sleepovers with him and Papyrus so they could all stay close._

 ** _Frisk had lost a boot at some point, their bare foot looking too small next to the one remaining yellow piece of footwear._**

 _Frisks first duties as Ambassador, organizing the monsters so the flow would be more manageable while they casually made puns with him to Asgore's dismay._

 ** _Frisks pale skin was littered with bruises, blood and gashes, staring at him accusingly._**

 _Frisk walking with him to New Grillbyz on their first date with him, pretending to ignore their loud stalkers, Papyrus and Undyne._

 ** _Frisks body losing all the colour of life, no longer leaving a chance at a smile or blush for one of his dumb jokes._**

 _Frisk sitting with him on a clear hill, gazing up at the stars until dawn, pointing out different constellations to him._

 ** _Frisks cold, broken hand cradled in his, their killer._**

Sans' eye ached from the magic that blazed there, the blue fire licking the side of his skull. Chara was unforgivable, but him? He'd done just as terrible. He sat by and watched, and when there was no one left, he murdered a child, his once best friend, for a revenge that he honestly didn't care about anymore. How horrible was he? To have more memories of Frisk being dead then of them being alive. To know the cold, soulless gaze better then their kind patient one, he must be truly awful. He deserved that hell. He deserved this one. Frisk would leave for the above ground as soon as possible, leaving them behind. Those that were left would feel the hollowness of the Underground and those few able to protect it would disappear, one by one, out of grief. Sans would be the first to go, and then Alphys. Maybe even Asgore. Hopelessness and despair would spread through the Underground. Pain swelled in his chest, threatening to spill over. He deserved every second of hellish fire that would burn him to ashes once Frisk left. He was a demon that deserved no heaven.

Cold water splashed over the skeletons hands, rinsing away some of the dried crimson. A familiar sweater scrubbed off the rest, leaving clean white bone. Gentle hands lifted his from his lap and his eyes followed them up to a flushed, round face framed by brown hair. Frisk pressed the palm of his hands against their cheeks and held them there, smiling at him encouragingly. A wave of calm spread through the skeleton as he gazed into the childs eyes, finding no hatred or malice. To this kid, Sans was a hero. He was brave and strong and kind, they found no reason to dislike or mistrust their friend. They felt completely safe with him, knowing he'd take care of everything should they be unable to. Frisk, he could see, held only love and patience for the old bag of bones. Tears slipped from his eyes, a luminescent blue that matched the fire in his left socket. Trembling, he pulled the human into a tight embrace, muttering apologies under his breath. They curled into him and patted his chest soothingly, silently encouraging him to feel better. He didn't care if Alphys saw, he hadn't cried in over sixty timelines and in that space he had witnessed so much shit that he had the right to cry just this once.


	5. Chapter 5: Another Time Moves On

Chapter 5: Another Time Moves On

Sans woke up at the foot of the bed still cradling Frisk in his arms. He couldn't be sure when he had passed out, but it felt like years had passed. He ached all over, his bones sure to pop and crack when he stood up again. He cringed at the idea; just because it felt good doesn't mean that he didn't find it disturbing. He was surprised to find he felt rested. It was the best sleep he had ever had. No nightmares, or dreams of any kind, just the pure bliss of a deep sleep. Around the room he could see nothing destroyed, out of place or burned. He wasn't sure how, but his lapse in control had done nothing more then lift a small weight off his back. The skeleton sighed in relief and felt a small pat on his chest as a reward. Chuckling, he looked down at the child curled into him. They smiled up at him, gently patting his breastbone again. A little reluctantly, Sans released the human so they could get up and stretch. He heard a few snaps from their joints and did his best to hide his surprise. They cracked too? Only other person he had met that did that was Undyne, and she only did it to be intimidating. By the smile on their face, the skeleton figured it was more of a relief thing for the kid. Nodding in the comfort that he wasn't the only one, Sans climbed to his feet and stretched out his limbs. He popped and snapped back into place, groaning happily as the aching eased a little. He turned to ask Frisk if they wanted something to eat just in time to see them swaying on their feet. Quickly wrapping an arm around them to keep them up, the skeleton looked them over. Their face, flushed with life, contradicted all the reasons he could come up with for the child to be struggling to stand.

"You alright there buddy?" He asked, trying to keep casual. They nodded and flashed him a weak smile. There were bags under their eyes, light purple bruises making the child look older. "Hey... Did you sleep at all?" He wondered, setting them on the bed carefully. They shook their head no and rubbed their eyes. Before he could open his mouth to question the obvious, they answered with a flick of their hands.

[ _Think too much_ ] they signed with a half-hearted shrug. [ _Scared you, sorry. Bad cut my fault_ ] their fault? How was it their fault? It didn't make sense. He hadn't caused it? Frisk shook their head at his unasked question. They explained that when they reached him in the Hall, they couldn't quite get control. They were so close, it was right there, just out of arms length. They figured out that whenever they would get hit badly, Chara would flinch away a little, letting Frisk take the pain; and a tiny bit of control. Sans couldn't hold back the disgusted grunt he made in the back of his throat. That fucking coward, forcing Frisk to feel hurt so they could keep going unhindered. No wonder they only got faster and better every time they fought. Another thing was added to Chara's already long list of sins. [ _Thought if hurt enough, CHARA go away. Try it. Work out good_ ] they shrugged. Sans couldn't believe it, they had cut their own leg that badly to stop their possessor. The skeleton shook his head in disbelief. It hadn't been an accident, obviously, but how had they managed to cut that deeply? The gash was down to their bone for fuck sake! Not even Undyne had that much will power. They could have cut off their leg, goddamn stubborn...

"You're one tough cookie, you know that?" he sighed, ruffling their hair. They gave him a tired smile in return. The skeleton leaned back on his hands and looked up to the ceiling. He would try healing them again later, after his talk with Asgore. He hoped he wouldn't have to explain too much, he really didn't feel up for a whole speech. What would the kid do in the mean time? He didn't really feel comfortable taking them along, just in case. Maybe they could just sleep at his place, god knows they need the rest. He also couldn't exactly let them walk around in just a shirt all the time, that was just indecent. Nodding, he asked Frisk what they would like to wear. Out of the corner of his eye he saw them give him a confused look but they didn't answer. "If you could wear anything you want, what would it be? Your old clothes were ruined, so I'll get you some new ones today, yeah?" he explained, waving to the basket where the clothes had been thrown away. They seemed to understand but instead of answering, they just looked at him. The skeleton liked to believe that he had gotten pretty good at reading the kid but right then he couldn't get any specific emotion out of their face.

[ _Why_ ] they signed, tilting their head. [ _Buy own clothes. Not be weight on shoulder. Why offer_ ] Sans shrugged. He felt a little obligated to, since he was the one that shredded their clothes in the first place. Well, there was another reason.

"Should replace what you break, right?" He asked with a smile. "You need clothes bud, I don't mind. Goin' to the castle today anyway, easy trip down to the capitol from there," he tried to think of some joke about the situation but for once, he came up blank. Maybe he was still drained. Frisk shook their head and hopped to their feet.

[ _Buy own clothes_ ] they stated stubbornly. Sans sighed, preparing himself for what he'd say next. Man, this was gonna hurt.

"With what money kid? Really want to use what you got from dust piles and unattended shops?" he challenged, watching the life drain from their face as they realized their mistake. A sharp pain tugged at his soul. They looked devastated, like they had almost forgotten what they had been apart of. "You didn't earn any of it bud, what kinda guy would I be if I let you spend other peoples money?" They completely deflated, eyes on their toes and arms hugging themselves. He tried to not see the tears in their eyes. Why was it such a big deal for him to get them some clothes? "Listen, pal, I know you want to be independent and all, but it wont hurt if I buy you one set of clothes, right? We'll figure out what to do with the money later, right now why don't you draw me what you'd want to wear?" they smiled a little at the mention of drawing. As he remembered, the child had always enjoyed the process of drawing. They felt it was similar to magic; making something beautiful out of seemingly nothing. Still looking rather upset and mildly confused, Frisk hunted down some paper and different coloured pens from Alphy's work table. They spread out the paper on the floor at the foot of the bed and began to draw. He didn't remember them being this good.

Frisks hands seemed to dance on the paper, pulling lines from some imaginary plane on the page. They drew themselves standing with their hands to their chest and then sketched their old sweater over in a blue and pink pen. They left that sheet and repeated the procedure of drawing themselves, only in a different position. This time they drew a warm looking jacket, trousers and boots. The third they designed something similar to a suit with a long coat. The fourth was a dress with pink polkadots. They seemed more interested in drawing random outfits then what they'd actually like to wear. Various different types of clothing on many Frisks' covered the floor. With one sheet left, the child seemed to pause and think before continuing with their pen. When they were done, they held that one out to him. Looking it over, Sans smiled and nodded, folding it up to put in his pocket.

"What about the others?" He asked, gesturing to the pages. Their eyes turned sad as they looked over all the different Frisks', each in different clothes. They didn't answer. "Bud?" he pressed, lightly tapping their arm. They flashing him a pained smile.

[ _Not right time_ ] they signed, patting his hand. Confusion struck the skeleton and he scooped up some of the paper to look at them more closely. Memories floated up, distant and fuzzy. Their jacket for the winter, their school uniform, their first summer dress, their first suit. They were all real. Scanning around, he saw a white dress with black spots; that was the dress they'd worn on their date with him to New Grillbyz up top. A Frisk in black trousers and a black shirt that was stripped with small red lines and a red tie that hung a little loose on their neck sat just under the one with the dress. That was for their meetings with Asgore, they had had others but found that outfit the most comfortable. Every page he looked at brought back a memory, a time when they had been happy. Sans felt his soul twist out of shape as he gathered up all the pages.

"You remember all these?" He asked, not looking to see the human. He didn't want to see that age in their eyes. How many years had it been? What had it all accumulated to for them? Five years? Ten? Twenty? Deep down, he knew the answer but he didn't want to consider it. It felt wrong to consider the kid that old, to be that wise. They knew so much, too much for a human child to have to know. A thought occurred to him, and the skeleton looked at the picture they had given him properly. There was no memory. The image of Frisk had a hand up to their face, covering an eye, the other one closed. A brown zip-up sweater hung off their frame just a little too much, open zipper showing a blue shirt underneath with a white rectangle on it. They had on a pair of trousers and a sturdy looking pair of brown leather boots with a small heel to them. There was nothing attached to this one. No special event or TV night in. This one had been made up. Confused, he glanced back at them.

[ _Different time. Different clothes_ ] they signed, giving him a look that said it was obvious. Slowly, the skeleton nodded and replaced the picture in his pocket. As an after thought, he asked if he could keep the other drawings. They looked confused but nodded, giving him permission. He folded up the other Frisks' and put them into a different pocket inside of his coat. He patted their head and suggested they go back to his place so that they could get some rest. After a moment of consideration, they agreed and Sans guided them through a short cut to his front door.

The once cozy home looked dull and tired. The lights in the windows were out, the decorations had been unplugged. What warmth and life there had been was now gone, along with his brother. Taking a deep breath, Sans unlocked the door and pulled Frisk inside, out of the cold. The human immediately started to turn on lights, moving around the living room quietly. It was all too silent. The skeleton couldn't bring himself to do anymore then close the door and watch the child walk all over the house. They padded around, dusting things off and returning things to where they belonged. They tossed out garbage and turned on the TV. An old rerun of MTT was playing from the VCR. Mettaton's voice filled the room but the kid had moved on. They climbed the steps to Papyrus' door, taking a hesitant step inside. He heard them moving things around, no doubt cleaning up the mess he had made a few days before. When they came back out, they shut the door behind them gently and patted the hard wood. They cleaned up the landing, replacing the picture of the bone on the wall and picking up all of the trash he'd left. The human did not go into his room. They hopped back down the stairs and crossed into the kitchen, busying themselves. They sprinkled Sans' pet rock with chocolate chips, pushed the couch back into place and folded up the discarded blanket to set onto the back of the couch. Looking around, the house looked much nicer. It was tidy and warm again. There was an evident absence of the tall, boisterous skeleton but the house looked like it had potential again. This had once been his home with his brother. Now, perhaps it could be his home with the human. Said child padded over to him and lightly patted his breastbone with a smile. He grinned down at them.

"Nice work kiddo," he praised, ruffling their hair. They giggled and pushed his hand off their head. "You going to be okay here?" He asked. They nodded without hesitation, patting his chest again. For some reason, that seemed to be their form of comforting him. He appreciated the attempt. "Alright then, I don't know how long I'll be but I'll be back before night, okay?" they nodded in understanding. His smile widened and he turned to leave when a hand tugged on his sleeve. Glancing back, he saw a gentle, yet concerned look on the humans face.

"We are okay," they all but whispered. "Sans, we can... Make it," The skeleton was shocked into silence, his ever lasting smile falling into a frown of bafflement. "We can do it... I know we... Can," they smiled, tugging on his sweater again in emphasis. He had to admit 'we' sounded a lot better then 'you'. He wouldn't be surprised if the human had decided to take care of him, knowing how he must feel without his little brother around.

"Yeah," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, bud, we'll make it," He smiled and messed up their hair again. "I'll be back," and with that, he stepped back out the door. He had a king to see, some clothes to buy and some memories to deal with. Walking down the path towards Waterfall, Sans could feel something tickling the back of his mind. He knew that Frisk didn't like to speak for a very good reason and that he was one of the few that ever got to hear them, even when they were above ground. What that reason was, however, was lost to him. He didn't keep personal things like that in his notes. There was only one mentioning that Frisk could talk, yet chose not to, and used their hands instead. He wasn't the type to keep that sort of stuff down. Must be from all the lab work.

With a deep breath, Sans took two steps forward, and one step back, falling into a short cut with practiced ease. The gravity around him shifted, simultaneously increasing and decreasing dramatically. The ground gave way beneath him, falling away into nothing. The colours of Snowdin drained away, a black and white world fading into non-existence. A new floor, new colours and stable gravity centered around the skeleton just as quickly as the old had left. It all took less then a second.

Sans stood in an archway, a room of golden flowers before him, a hall of grey behind. A throne stood in the midst of the flowers. Bustling around the room, caring for the weeds, was a tall cloaked figure with a crown perched between strong horns. The skeleton rapped his knuckles on the door frame, fixing his usual grin in place. The figure jumped and spun around. The monster stood tall and wide, covered in fur from head to toe. A relieved smile replaced the panicked cringe that had been brought forth by the sudden new arrival. Sans lifted his hand in greeting, padding into the room.

"Ah, Sans! How good to see you! Is everything alright?" Asked the monster, an anxious tone to his voice. Thinking about it, the monster rather looked like a goat. The skeleton grinned a little wider at that. He nodded to the question and quickly waved off more.

"Asgore," He practically hummed into a deeper voice, providing calm where there was little. "We need to have a chat," The room seemed to be swallowed in shadow, the bright happy colours being eaten by the sudden serious tone the skeleton had brought with him. He had a funny feeling he'd have to get used to that. The goat shuffled nervously and gestured for him to continue. Smile locked in place, the skeleton shrugged nonchalantly. "It's about the human," he stated. The goat froze, a gleam of hope in one eye, dread in the other. Sans didn't mind, he was focused on his task. Papyrus wasn't the only one that could do outstanding in any field. Sans hadn't always bee such a lazy bones and he didn't have the time to be one right now. This was going to take awhile and the kid was waiting for him. Couldn't exactly leave them alone, now could he? The goat led him back into the house and they sat at the dinning table across from each other. After a heavy few minutes of deciding what to say, he cracked the silence. " **There's been a mistake** ," He informed the king, tapping his finger against the table.

Sans had work to do.


	6. Chapter 6: Plans

Chapter 6: Plans

He was late.

Sans stumbled into the house, exhausted both physically and mentally. He had been kicking himself the whole walk home, berating himself for his sudden leap onto a pointless hope. What had he been thinking? Asking Asgore to train him _just in case_ the human didn't reset. He had left himself without the strength to use his magic to make it home on time and had been forced to trudge his was to the River Person in Hot Land and then stumble his way through the snow-covered, abandoned town. Fuck he was stupid. Frisk had to reset, so what was the point in trying to physically improve himself.

"Just had to be faster, eh? Gotta be stronger, just in _fucking_ case," He growled at himself, shutting the front door quietly. "What a load of shit," he dropped the bag containing Frisks new clothes on the ground by the couch, dazedly moving towards the kitchen. He found the table covered in paper, the child on one of the chairs, scribbling frantically. He saw diagrams, charts, math and chemical equations, detailed drawings of human and monster anatomy, just as detailed drawings of soul anatomy and the differences in the races. At a glance, he could see so many arrows in different colours, connecting sentences to various chopped up pieces on each picture. Most pages had neat, spaced out letters in black ink, detailing something he couldn't see from his position at the kitchen archway. He crept closer, not wanting to break the humans concentration, to see the page they were currently on. On the sheet was an image of a generic monster and human in black ink facing each other. Each had a coloured line flowing from their outstretched hands to make a jumble in the middle of the page. Following the lines as they mixed into one colour, Sans felt confused at the sight of what could only be considered a soul at the end of the trail. Frisk was writing something in a black pen, detailing what he assumed must be in the picture above. Curious, he tried to read what he could see.

 _... Using combined magic, the two may create the essence of a soul and with enough trust and 'determination' they can compact the power into a self-sustaining form of which may be placed into a body, imbued with the deceased dust that contains their memories, that was already created before hand. Using this method, a race can be saved from extinction or an accident may be righted. This was used in the past to save Monsters from a plague that only seemed to hinder the more magical beings..._

Sans felt his breathing hitch in his throat, causing the human to jump in surprise and turn to look at him with a hand to their chest. When they recognized it was only him, they smiled and waved towards the counter behind him, returning to their page. Glancing back, the skeleton saw what could only be described as a feast. At least to him. A plate with a burger, fries and plenty of ketchup sat waiting for him, stacked high and steaming hot. Not understanding how they had made the food didn't stop Sans from eating everything in record time. He wasn't used to moving so much and it had completely drained his usual resources. Part of him expected it to be human food but it was clearly magic, his bones swelling with renewed vigor and strength by the time he finished his last bite. Content, the skeleton sat at the table, opposite of Frisk, and patiently waited for them to complete whatever they were doing. He didn't understand what he read, but if it was true... His mind reeled from the possibilities and he wondered if the child would allow him to keep their pages in his notes. Even if it turned out to be theory and myth, it would be interesting to at least attempt. Only... The word 'trust' jumped out at him vividly. Gazing across the table at the working human, he couldn't decide if he trusted them. For all he knew, this could be bullshit. Just one great play set up by this seemingly innocent kid.

Sans let his skull hit the table with a soft thump, irritated by the constant uncertainty of this whole situation. Why haven't they reset yet? Wouldn't that be easier than building up a soul for ninety-eight Monsters? They had destroyed Chara, so why couldn't they start over and just... Do the nice run again? A tap on his arm pulled the skeleton out of his frustrated musings.

Frisk extended a stack of paper to him, carefully circled numbers at the top of each one to specify the order to read them in. They had finished whatever they were writing and were now offering him the chance to read it. Taking the paper, he told them where their new clothes were before turning his attention to the words before him. A subconscious part of him noted their departure but his focus was on the information he had been gifted. The first three pages explained why they hadn't reset and, to his surprise, why they never would again.

 _Chara is an anomaly in time and space, their soul refusing to die off but has no where to go. With the start of each new timeline, Chara's soul gains strength. They may not reappear immediately if I restart, but the chances are too high to risk. The same trick will not work twice, after all. That being said, I have discovered another way to fix my mistake and bring everyone back._

He took a deep breath, nodding along in understanding as he set that section aside. Frisk had returned to their spot and seemed to be doodling on a spare page, lazy circles bound to transform into something wonderful. Sparing them a glance, Sans moved on to what was sure to be a complicated explanation of how this new solution would work.

Of course he was right. He hadn't seen this much math since he had left the lab to Alphys years ago. The chemical equations were simple enough but the way they bled into the mathematical picture was something to marvel at. He double checked their work, finding no mistakes in the crisp handwriting. Several pages laid out how exactly it worked on a scientific level that he had never experienced before. It wasn't that he hadn't see complicated, almost mystical experiments before, this one was just far beyond all he had ever learned. He flipped through the content in silent awe more then once, taking it all in and building up the workings in his head. The math made sense. It seemed plausible at least but...

"Hey," he called, drawing the humans attention. They patiently gaze at him, prepared to answer his questions. The bags under their eyes had gotten worse. The bruise-like smudges made the depth in their eyes seem fathomless and unbelievably tired. "Gotta ask about the last bit here, bud. You got the math pretty good but the 'how' is a little... Lacking," he shrugged, scratching the back of his skull. They nodded and pushed a final page towards him. Feeling his headache protest at the time of night and the amount of reading he'd done in the past hour, Sans sighed at the letters that stared at him from their white realm.

 _Using an ancient form of meditation, one can find a space in their head in which they can concentrate their magic into a more visual form. One may share this space with another with a resonating of their souls. The last part I can demonstrate for you, when you have a stable 'space' in your mind, as it is difficult to explain. In this realm of sorts, the pair can wield raw magic to build and create anything they desire. The two souls must work very closely together, with an intimacy usually reserved for married couples. It is a similar way that two people can reproduce together through magic, as Monsters do. This of course requires a great deal of trust as the two must meld their magic together. Should they be on guard or uncertain of the other participant, the magic will not fuse and both people will simply become exhausted. I will explain the meditation when you are rested and ready as it does eat up some energy._

 _This is, however, not something you must do. If you do not wish to, or are uncomfortable, perhaps simply find yourself unable to trust me enough, then you do not need to do this. I am offering an option, not an obligation. I may be able to do it on my own, so the door remains open to bring everyone back. It simply will take longer to do so alone._

Sans set aside the page with the others and gazed into the eyes of the being across from him. Could he trust this? What if the moment he closes his eyes to do their meditation shtick, they slash through him? He leaned forward, searching their eyes for anything to back his doubts. They leave their seat and pad over to him, quietly looking back at him. They seemed to understand that they were being judged harshly and withheld nothing. Emotions flickered behind their eyes, a confusing mix of who they were.

Fear that he would reject their suggestion or kill them outright. Uncertainty at his level of understanding. The resigned knowledge that who he is now is not who he was when they had run to him all those timelines ago. A self-hatred that he was shocked to find. Anger at themselves for being too weak to stop what had happened. An endless exhaustion that would not be fixed by sleeping for the rest of their life. A deep sadness that resonated with his own. And hope. So much hope. Hope to fix what had happened, hope that he would help, hope to be worthy of being there to see everyone again. Hope that they could make everyone happy, just one more time.

More passed behind their eyes with quick flicks of explanation, from regret to depression to pain all the way through to hope and joy and the unwavering determination to make things right. Not a single murderous intent passed by. They wanted only to fix their wrongs and bring happiness where they had delivered pain.

Sans nodded and Frisk visibly relaxed, a small smile gracing their face. "Alright kid, how about we get some rest?" They nodded slowly and took his hand when he offered it. He led them up to his room, but they refused to go in once he opened the door. He joked about cleaning it up more, but they just shook their head and pointed down to the couch. When he asked why, they shrugged. "I'm not gonna make you sleep in here if ya don't want to," he told them, leaning on the door frame. They looked away with an almost guilty expression.

[ _Do not want to scare you or make you upset_ ] They signed. [ _Know you do not trust_ ] a sad look crossed their features before they shook their head. A smile replaced their frown as they gestured to the couch again, turning towards the stairs.

"You need me to trust you for this thing, right?" they paused, giving him a confused look. The human nods, still in a half-step to leave. "Read somewhere that one of the best ways to trust someone is to sleep near'em," he explained crossing his arms. "Along with talkin' a lot, spendin' time together and all that kinda stuff," the child turned to face him again, face scrunched up in confusion. "You trust me more than I trust you, so if you're cool with sleepin' with this old bag of bones, I'd feel a lot better with you in reach," his words were beginning to slur with exhaustion but he couldn't care less. He couldn't help being tired. Frisk nodded with solemn understanding and followed him into his room. Out of habit, Sans closed and locked the door behind him before collapsing onto his mattress on the floor. His room was remarkably clean, but he had done that after Papyrus was killed, some part of him hoping that if he did what his brother had always asked then maybe he would come back. He had similar reasoning behind trashing the younger's room.

Gathering up his remaining energy, Sans gently pulled Frisk onto the bed with him and messily threw the blanket over them both. The child kept as much distance between them as the bed and blanket allowed. They laid on their back, hands folded over their stomach with the blanket up to their chest. It took them some time to relax but eventually the child fell asleep next to him. Trying to ignore the feeling that he was being just a little creepy, the skeleton watched Frisks chest rise and fall in their sleep. If he hadn't known better, Sans would have said they were dead. A small, exhausted and completely unreasonable part of him panicked that they might actually be dead or die while he sleeps. He couldn't watch them breathing if he was sleeping too, after all. Grunting, he placed a hand on the childs chest over where their heart was. How he knew where their heart was was unknown to the skeleton, but he simply seemed to have the knowledge.

His hand moved gently with their breathing, a soft thumping under his fingers a quiet reassurance of their life. With the piece of him that had panicked now silenced, Sans drifted off to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7: In Practice

Chapter 7: In Practice.

Sans snarled in frustration, falling onto his back. The living room floor provided no comfort. They'd been attempting this stupid meditation thing for hours and he just couldn't get it. He didn't understand how to just "visualize" something without knowing what it was. Frisk had tried to explain how to do it, but it just didn't make any sense. A pool of water, filling up in his hands and over flowing. A flower blooming slowly at his feet. A ball of fire eating up everything until nothing was left except himself. None of it worked.

Frisk sighed, probably just as annoyed as he felt. "Try again... Later?" they suggest. Sans nods, covering his eyes with his hands. He usually didn't struggle so much with new things like this. He learned gravity manipulation and how to pull things from different pockets in space in just a week for fuck sake. Why was something as silly as meditation getting him? He listened to Frisk pad around, taking out their irritation through cleaning. Neither of them had slept very well last night and he could hear how tired the child felt by the way their feet lightly brushed the carpet with each step. They were usually so quiet, so careful about each step like a mine would go off under them if they so much as twitched in the wrong direction. So controlled and careful. They must be truly exhausted to slip up like this. Sans was used to being tired, but the kid? They needed sleep way more then he did. He wasn't sure what had happened to them before they fell but... The haunted look in that kids eyes when they woke up and practically ran from him... It had nothing to do with their repetitive murder at his hands.

 _Sans woke to a whimper and his arm shaking. His nightmares were the usual, but not the worst he'd had, so why was he shaking? Opening his eyes, he came face to face with the most terrified eyes he had ever seen. Frisks cheeks were wet with tears, teeth digging into their bottom lip as if holding back a scream. Their hands were pressed against his chest, gently pushing on him. The quietest of distressed sounds left their throat. Sans panicked, sitting up and moving away from them a little too quickly. With a startled squeak, they ran._

 _"W-wait! Kid!" the skeleton choked out, scrambling to follow as the child struggled frantically with the door and lock. He tumbled out of the bed, legs twisted in the blanket. He hastily kicked the fabric away, cursing colourfully under his breath, just as Frisk managed to open the door and bolt for the stairs. He chased after them, caution to the wind. His sleep deprived mind was not awake enough to process what was happening. Why would they be so frightened of him? Aside from the obvious, of course. But wouldn't they scream or something if it was a nightmare or just general fear of him? Why would they just silently cry and struggle to not make a single sound until he woke up on his own? Even exhausted as he was, Sans could feel something off about their reactions to him._

 _He caught up to them quickly, halfway down the hall and no where near the stairs. Frisk screamed something and threw themselves over the railing of the landing in a blind panic. Sans didn't have time to think about what they had said as he threw out his hand, magic grasping the child mid-air, seconds from breaking their neck on the floor below. He held them there, taking the opportunity to hop down the stairs and pull them into his chest. They cried out and wriggled in his hold, desperately trying to flee._

 _Sans sat with them in his lap for hours, petting their hair and whispering reassurances. They repeated the same phrase under their breath, barely audible, until they had calmed down. It was something along the lines of 'Should have jumped sooner' but he couldn't be sure._

The skeleton traced his eyes over the darkness in his sockets, regulating his breathing. After their little stunt, Sans hadn't been sure how to get them to relax. Asking them to teach him that meditation thing sure did the trick though. Of course they'd be the kind to drop everything, even their own personal trauma, just to help someone else out. It really wasn't them. It couldn't have been. That demon made two faces, hallow and sadistic. This kid? This kid was full of subtle shifts in expression, gradual and slightly delayed changes to emotions. Something told him that that's how they always were, a feeling deep in his chest saying that they were alright now. Frisk was back to being Frisk. And he could trust Frisk. He would have his doubts, of course, but at the end of the day they would the most worthy of his trust, more than anyone else; even Papyrus.

The realization struck the skeleton. No one was more worthy than Papyrus... Right? A gentle sigh broke his musings. Letting his hands fall away, Sans tilts his head to see Frisk sitting next to him, eyes locked on their hands in resignation.

"Giving up already pal?" They turn their attention to him, a deep conflict in their eyes. A vast amount of uncertainty swam in their mind, unable to decide how to move forward. "Not feelin the whole teachin' thing, eh?" They shook their head sadly, looking more distraught by the second. "Least it's not geometry, we're a little too _round_ to get through that stuff," He mutters patting his stomach and holding back his widening grin. At their confused look, he shrugs "Only squares are good at it, it's their _area_ ," Sans grins at the almost invisible upturn of the childs mouth. "You know, I've never seen a humming bird before," Another half-hearted shrug "But I have seen a spelling bee," Their smile grew a fraction more. "If there's one thing I've learned over the years, it's to never trust Atoms; they make up everything," Frisk lifts a hand to their mouth, hiding their grin. "You know, I've always thought that decimals have a point," A quiet snicker caused Sans to shut his eyes and his usual smile to stretch wider. "Math class always bugged me, it was so full of drama. There were just so many problems to work out," They giggle a little louder, obviously struggling to stay quiet. "You'd probably like my old Trig teacher, he always spoke in _sine_ language," he found himself enjoying the sound of their muffled laughter. "For a math teacher, he was a pretty good dancer. He had algo- _rythm_ ," He rolled more out, eventually getting the human to give up hiding their laugh and have them fall over in a fit of snorts and giggles.

When he stopped, and Frisk had successfully contained their snickering, Sans sat up again and suggested one last attempt before giving up for the day. They agreed with a smile, that confident gleam in their eye once more.

[ _Stand_ ] They sign, hopping to their feet and waving at him. He follows their instruction and takes their hands when offered.

"So, what's the trick this time, teach?"

"Listen," they smile. "Close eyes," a dutiful student, Sans let his eyes slip shut. "Deep breaths... Listen to everything... The wind... The clock... The water... The forest," taking a deep breath, the skeleton struggled to focus on the sound of the air entering and leaving his chest. The wind howled outside, the clock ticked by seconds. He could hear no water. Sans' face scrunched up slightly around his sockets in confusion. How could he hear a forest? "Let each part... Become so normal... It is just background. One step at a time," Pushing down his frustration, the skeleton tried again. He focused on his breathing, deep breath in and then out. Air rushing in, flowing out.

Deep breath in...

Breath rushing out...

Until it felt so natural to breath deeply that he forgot about it. He heard the ticking of the clock and focused on it next. He didn't count the seconds, didn't check the time by the chimes that followed. Sans allowed the sound of each tick to wash over him. Soon, he forgot the clock too.

A distant dripping sound pulled at his attention and he realized it must be the sink in the kitchen. Frisk hadn't turned it off all the way when they had been cleaning. His focus centered on the sound. It filled him to overflowing, each drop relaxing him further. After awhile, the water faded from his mind.

The wind outside of the house guided his attention and he followed mentally all through the Underground. How it would sink in Waterfall, becoming heavy and slow, forming a mist in its path. The way it would suddenly rise in Hotland, jerked to the cave ceiling by the harsh heat. How it would weave its way through people and buildings in the Capitol, all the way to the Castle, where it would press against the Barrier and rustle the golden flowers. Sans followed the wind back through Snowdin and into the ruins, through the abandoned buildings and to the end of the cavern where the only sunshine freely fell into the underground from one giant, gaping hole high above. The wind drifted from his skull, his attention turning to the quiet beyond his abandoned down.

The trees rustled and creaked but there was no other sound. There were no birds in the Underground to liven up the evergreens. The only living things under the mountain were the Monsters and now one Human child. Despite the silence among the trunks, it was not eerie in the forest. It was peaceful, calm. He had always enjoyed the forests around Snowdin. The frigid air helped him think, the quiet calmed his nerves. It was one of his favourite places. The vastness of the untouched land was beautiful to the skeleton. He had yet to reach the end of it in neither north nor south.

Slowly, the forests fade into the background. He found nothing else to focus his hearing on, his limits reached. With nothing to listen too, Sans found himself to be almost floating in nothing. A comfortable darkness enveloped his senses, the outside world no longer important to him.

"Nod if you... Can hear me?" A soft voice barely registered and he felt himself nod, a distant movement that felt more like someone else's than his own. A gentle humming pulled him deeper into the nothing around him, somehow drawing him down. He felt no gravity but he was certain of the direction. Slowly, a small golden light appeared in the distance below him. A sense of vertigo hit him but he was quickly reassured by the kind lullaby the light emanated. He moved down to it. He did not fall nor fly. He wasn't walking, he stood perfectly still in his living room, but the feeling of taking steps down and forward persisted. Like he was traveling down a spiraling staircase.

The light grew as he moved closer, the humming louder with each phantom step. It was a song Sans didn't know but was somehow familiar. When the stairs stopped and he was level with the light, the skeleton could only look on in confusion. Before him stood Frisk, the human child seemingly made of golden light with wings tucked against their back. The light glittered and sparked, a mix of a crackling fire and a light fixture. Their eyes were closed, hands to their chest. They were humming the tune he had followed.

"Where are you?" They asked, pausing in their song only long enough to speak.

"I'm right here, kid," Sans waved and then jumped as he saw his hand, white and glowing, in front of his face. Glancing down at himself, Sans found his body to be the same. He hadn't had any form a moment ago, had he? "Where... Are we?" He muttered, still finding nothing around them in his search of the darkness.

"This is where the meditation brings you, Sans," They smiled, opening their eyes. He noticed how easily they spoke. There was no hesitation or struggle like there usually was. He wondered why that was the case. "For lack of a better term, it is a 'void' in your mind, very close to your soul and my own," they gestured around them. "I'm very glad this method worked, it was the last I could think of. Here, you have close control with your own raw magic and can form many things. This is where we would make souls..." they trailed off, eyes drifting to their feet. They looked almost guilty. A part of him took note that they were both more expressive and open like this. "But something like that... Takes a lot of power..." Frisk shifted their weight, seemingly struggling with themselves.

"Well, I don't know if I have that kinda power kid," Sans shrugged, casually urging them forward. He had a feeling they could change that. They sighed, coming to some conclusion.

"Sans..." They began. "This is not what a Human soul should look like here," they grimace, gesturing to themselves. "If you would allow me to explain...?" hope filled their eyes. He nodded. A few sparks seemed to fly from their wings at once, fizzing about their relief. He chuckled, wishing everyone was so simple to read.

Taking a deep breath, they launched into their explanation. "At the end of every timeline, when I gained the option to reset everything, I discovered that I could still SAVE something, if it was very close to me. That something happened to be LOVE," They hold out a hand, palm turned up to the 'sky'. Sans watched as a transparent image of a red soul hovered above their hand. "Humans have no outlet for magic as monsters do. Monster have lay lines, like blood vessels, all through their bodies that distribute magic of all kinds. Humans lack this. That being said, Humans have a tight limit to their LOVE that they are not able to breach by normal means and if they figure out a way to do it they usually die from the overload of magic that they are not capable of properly siphoning," The 'soul' in their hand started to pull itself apart, clearly unbalanced. It undulated in their palm, dripping into nothing and pulling itself back together, becoming more drastic as they spoke. "However, if a large enough power is introduced to the body, it will fall into a state of shock until it can right itself to cope; or die.

Through every timeline Chara destroyed, I snatched up what LOVE my soul had, and saved it into a pocket of space where it would wait for me. Once I had enough... I made a truce, so to speak, with Chara," they flinched, uncomfortable with what they had had to do. Sans couldn't stop apprehension from rising in his throat. His paranoia flared in his chest and he hoped to some higher power that their 'deal' hadn't been legit. "At the beginning of this Timeline, before we traversed the Ruins, I offered the LOVE to Chara and asked to be their partner this time around. No more being thrown into darkness and held from control. I wanted to watch. That's... What I told them anyway. They were suspicious but accepted the LOVE. My body went into shock, of course, and Toriel brought me to her home when she found me and cared for me while my body struggled to cope. It took a week for me to wake again," the soul in their hand shuddered and shifted in colour to a gold like their body, wings extending from the heart like fire. "This is what my soul is now as a result. My body developed lay lines, like a monster, to properly distribute the magic. Right now, I have no dominate type of magic, just an equal mix of every kind. That will change over time but for now that's how it is," the 'soul' vanished.

Sans felt himself shudder, phantom pains working their way up his body. "Must've hurt like hell," he joked. They nodded solemnly in reply however, causing his grin to tighten.

"It still does, actually. It's very difficult to move, the lay lines not yet fully developed. It's like being born a second time and having to mature immediately. The growing pains are terrible. But, they are the only reason I was able to flee Chara when I did. They allowed me to be conscious the entire run, so long as I didn't interfere. I pretended I was unaffected by everyone's deaths, at some point playing it like I actually enjoyed their demise," Frisks wings wilted as another shudder wracked their small frame. "This is the first timeline I had to watch it all and consciously do nothing to stop it..." they shook their head to clear it, determination shinning in their eyes. "You were the only one capable of stopping them. I had the feeling but when we met outside of Snowdin, I knew for sure that you did. Chara became cautious and I was forced to play the 'partner' and warn them that you were trying to figure out a way to kill them without killing me. They were confident, however, that it was impossible. That confidence killed them the second they tried to show off their power," they smiled ruefully at their possessors stupidity and Sans felt himself sharing in their pleasure. That demon deserved to die. It was even better knowing that they died because they were a cocky shit. He nodded for them to continue.

"After a few times of saving my own LOVE, I discovered that there was another's that I could save, in a separate pocket of space, for them in the future... I..." They paused, trying to not look at him directly. "I'm not sure how it would affect you though. If we were close enough when I reset, I could hold onto your LOVE for you too, but experiencing what it's done to me makes me hesitate..." the child shuffles uncertainly, wringing their hands. "The side effects so far were mostly expected but there seems to be some things I missed. Because my body had to cope... I'm no longer Human. I am not Monster either, as I retained my Human physicality, but I am a sort of hybrid with lay lines of magic all over me, the ability to intimately use magic and my change in longevity... That is to say... I will live for a very long time, I will not get sick as others do and there is the possibility that I will simply never continue to age..." they slumped, the burden of what they've done weighing them down. Sans absorbed this information calmly. Questions spun in his head but he held them back. The child wasn't finished.

"I don't know all it would do to you. I honestly have no idea. Figuring out how a Human would cope was fairly simple but Monsters are strange and already mostly made of magic. I just couldn't put it together before I had to take this risk for myself... For all I know, this could kill you..." the chocked on the last words, luminecent tears flooding their eyes. They wouldn't be able to stand one more death. Sans gazed at them with the understanding that this was Frisks soul and it was crying at the thought him dying. Souls can't lie. People can, but their souls can't. He distantly felt his physical self pull Frisk into a hug.

"So... We die, or we save everyone, is that right?" he asked. They nodded thei affirmation. Taking a deep breath, Sans came to his own decision. "Y'know, I've risked dying every Timeline just for the hint of a chance at getting my brother back. You're giving me a legitimate oportunity here kid, how could I say no to that?" They blinked at him, processing what he said. Realization dawned quickly and he watch them visibly struggle to not break down sobbing at all the uncertanty of it all. He crossed to them, silently offering them a hand with which to steady themselves. Instead, Frisk threw themselves into him, hugging him tightly. He was shocked by their sudden move but he didn't push them off. They were struggling to come to terms with their concious decicion of possibly killing him. They wouldn't forgive themselves for this. Sans was surprised to find himself on the brink of tears as he hugged them back. A mix of hope and fear swirled in him. He supposed that the were both overwhelemed.

When the gethered themselves, Frisk stepped back from him with a quiet apology. He let them go and informed them to do whatever had to be done for this. After a moment, they nodded and gestured for him to move back. Sans obeyed, stepping back a few feet to give them room. He watched with a mix of confusion and awe as raw magic flowed around Frisk, their wings extended out to either side. Golden strands gathered in their hands, glowing brightly with potential. A black box, only a shade lighter than the world around them, appeared within the ball of light. As the magic fadded from their upturned palms, the box floated down to take its place. With their wings tucked back in place and their magic qiuet, Frisk offered the box to him, a solemn experssion on their face.

With hesitant movements, Sans gingerly took the box and flipped open the cover. A blinding light poured out from the container, forcing him to sheild his eyes. When his sight adjusted, the skeleton gazed at the ball of raw energy contained in the box.

"All you have to do is touch it," Frisk whispered, a sad note in their voice evident. He glanced at them over the box. This could kill him. This amount of LOVE in his hands, broken down into it's most raw form of magic, could tear him to shreds. Not allowing himself to think about it anymore, Sans shoved a hand into the light.

Fire engulfed him.


	8. Chapter 8: An Old Friend

Chapter 8: An Old Friend

Sans floated calmly in a vast nothing. As his body struggled to cope with the immense magic he had gained, the skeleton slept. Or something very close to sleep at least. He hung on the edge of conciousness and slumber, a darkness surounding him that seemed to know no light had ever existed. However, he was not afraid nor claustraphobic, as some might have been. Instead, he simply waited. As void of emotion as this place was of light.

After what felt like a century of nothing changing, a figure approached him. It was tall with a white face, hands and lab coat over a black body just a shade lighter then the world around it. The face held hallow eyes with cracks extending from them, and a hallow mouth turned up in a smile someone could have considered sinister. Sans thought he seemed rather like a skeleton, with his segmented hands that had holes in the palms. But that was impossible; Sans was the only skeleton left now that his brother was dead.

The figure spoke, its voice unused and fragile, like ancient text never read. It hummed out the words in a broken, but understandable manner, if he focused hard enough. Sans listened in silence, taking in the information and nodding along. It explained where he was and why, what was happening to him on the outside and what he could expect when he woke up. He would be in some pain, and when it faded he would carry a dull ache in his bones for a few months. When that ache finally left, he would begin to change. The figure did not say exactly how he would change, only that his soul was just as strong as Frisks (his "dear little friend", as the figure put it) and perhaps even stronger when it fully develops. He gathered he may become some sort of hybrid like Frisk is, with the physical properties of a human and the magic ability of a monster. He couldn't be sure however. The figure emphasised that Sans' control over his magic would always be better than Frisks and warned him that he should teach the child quickly about control or they would cause some havoc.

It explained that he would not remember everything that it said, but if he did, it was this: Frisk was the only person he could trust completely with what they were about to do for history and monster kind. No one else could know how they were doing it or things would end up very badly for them both. It asked him to try to trust them with other things, but understood if he could not.

"After all," it hummed, "A mans past is his own burden to do with as he pleases," its head tilted in an amused way.

When the figure finished speaking, it cast around to take in all the darkness before nodding to him and fading away again. It had not given a name, race or any sort of indentification. It simply was. Sans wondered if he may have imagined the whole encounter.

A dull ache in the back of his head alerted him to the fact that his time of peace was over. The world began to lighten rapidly, over taking his senses in a wave of blinding light after all that darkness. Angry voices drew his attention. They seemed to be yelling at someone. Sans could feel his bones crying out for him to never move again and, being the lazy guy he was, the skeleton was tempted to listen to them. However, he could hear a distinctly quieter pair of voices, one stuttering and the other quite slow and halting, arguing with the other louder tones and Sans knew he had to get up.


	9. Chapter 9: Listen to Your Guts Kid

Chapter 9: Listen To Your Guts Kid

The skeleton woke to find Frisk and Alphys arguing with a small television. On it played animated characters, fighting among themselves quite violently. The monster and child seemed to be telling the characters to just make up already before someone died. Sans would have chuckled at the sight had his body not been screaming at him in pain. With a grunt, the skeleton rolled himself over to view his silly friends better, drawing one of their gazes almost instantly. Frisk hopped to their feet to run to him, but fell right back down the moment they moved to step forward. Clutching their head tiredly, they still tried to view him through fuzzy looking eyes.

The child looked exhausted and dirty, as though they had trudged through mucky water for a few hours. Sans watched Alphys hastily turn off the tv to sooth her little friend. However the woman had gotten here, the two seemed to have formed some sort of bond while Sans slept. The monster looked genuinely concerned for the human child that insisted on trying to get to their feet. Key word there is trying; they truly were exhausted. To give the child some peace, Alphys waddled over to him quickly to look him over. The look in her eyes suggested she didn't know exactly what to look for, but that she would simply search for anything abnormal.

It wasn't uncommon for Sans to fall asleep. It was very normal, through all the timelines, for the skeleton to casually nod off and perhaps startle some people when he would not wake immediately upon their call. It had been a very long time, however, since he had slept walk. As his vision cleared with wakefulness, Sans found himself confused at the sight of Alphys' lab that he was certain they had not been in before. What's more, with the child so dirty, it seemed odd that he felt so clean. If they had followed him, if only to keep an eye on him so he wouldn't walk off something, then why was he not dirty as well?

"Frisk s-said that you suddenly passed o-out on them," Alphys explained when she saw his confusion. "They d-didn't understand why, and g-got f-frightened so they brought you h-here," she patted the bed and announced louder that he looked perfectly fine, all things concerned. Sans let the information roll around in his skull for a few minutes before it dawned on him. Memory rushed back. The experiment, the void, the magic that chilled him to the soul and the pain that came with it. Suddenly his aches made more sense. His eyes locked with Frisks.

They brought me here he thought, astounded. The child had carried him from snowdin, all through waterfall, just to bring him to hotland so Alphys could possibly save his life should the worse happen. Not only that, but they had kept him completely out of every sort of dirt and muck that they had trudged through. Sans may be a skeleton but he wasn't exactly light. He was definitely heavier then the kid so how had they managed it all alone? Their fuzzy eyes betrayed nothing of their actions, only their concern for him.

Sighing, Sans shoved himself up to sit on the edge of the bed, his slipper-less feet dangling over the side. The pain it brought almost caused him to lie back down, but the familiar look in the kids eyes, that deep, unwavering concern for his health above all else, reminded him too well of his brother. He never could say no to the taller skeleton; especially when he flashed him that look. Puppy eyes? Yeah he could get past that. But this? Nah, he was powerless. Where had the kid learned that look from, he wondered.

"Stop lookin' like I kicked your dog, kiddo, m'okay," he smiled at them, watching the relief flood their face with satisfaction. Easy to worry, easy to reassure. He knew they weren't stupid, just like how Papyrus wasn't stupid, and decided that perhaps they simply knew more about what happened then he did. It was something they had lived, after all. What was it they had said? It's like being born a second time and having to mature immediately; the growing pains are terrible. The skeleton had not experienced growing pains in a very long time, but recognized the terrible ache in his bones if he tried to think back far enough. Groaning, he adjusts his position on the bed, swinging his bare feet slightly. He decides to not ask what happened to his slippers.

Unsure of the real reason Frisk had brought the older monster to the lab, Alphys announced that Sans should watch the show with them and scurried around to make a comfortable 'nest' out of blankets and pillows in front of the tv. Sans tried to stay on the bed, not wanting to move more then he had to, but Frisk had to help him down before the lizard dragged him. She was very passionate about her anime.

When settled down on the floor, Alphys started the show over from the beginning. Frisk tapped along to the song while the lizard sang. Sans leaned back, more watching his friends reactions then watching the show. People would be heading home soon. The threat of the demon gone meant safety. He hoped Frisks new outfit would confuse everyone well enough to keep them from thinking it was them. Monsters saw clothes in a much different light then humans. What one wore was an expression of their personality and feelings, they rarely changed from what they decided on. Humans, on the other hand, had a wide variety of clothes they felt expressed them. Those along with what was socially acceptable and what was meant for home only created a difficult portrait to paint of the individual. Sans hoped this could work to their advantage, at least until everything was put to rest.

Although Frisk was watching the show, they periodically glanced at Sans, looking for any change in his complexion that would signify anything unhealthy. Perhaps the whole dying thing didn't have to happen right away. He didn't mind the attention. He'd know if he was going to be burned up by his own magic but understood that they didn't know the feeling. A few theories about the pain in his body floated around his skull, but he would have to wait to put them to paper. Not that he would ever forget them any way. He never forgot anything when in a stable timeline. It was simply easier to map out possibilities when he could tape them to a wall and mark all over them.

By the time the show ended, Alphys was crying over the death of her new favourite character, Frisk was fast asleep on his stomach and Sans was watching the ceiling with half lidded eyes. Without any provocation, Alphys began to explain that it wasn't a show, it was a season of a show on one disk, and it had many episodes in it. She dove into a deep explanation of everything that happened during the season, theorizing all it could mean and why. It occurred to the skeleton that Alphys would probably be a worth while asset in the kids attempt to revive the dead monsters. At least, she knew how to utilize determination to repair and even mutate bodies. Perhaps it could be used to make new ones from old dust. Yet, something held his metaphorical tongue. Thinking on it all, as worthy an asset she would be, perhaps she would be obsessed with getting her love back, and would focus on the crazier aspects versus the reality. And on the off chance it didn't work... No, maybe he'd wait to talk to Frisk about it first.

The lizard put in the next show, sorry, the next season of the show into her disk reader and settled down to watch it. She passed out before the second episode could even begin. Making sure to be quiet, which he was quite good at, Sans nudged the human into wakefulness and gestured to the door. The nod sleepily and help him leave the room to the desk and chair Alphys kept in the main room.

[ _What is wrong_ ] they sign, barely able to move their hands in a legible manner. They weren't really awake, but Sans didn't want to wait any longer.

"First things first, how'd you carry me here?" he asks, barely above a whisper. Signing was something he could read, but he hadn't used it in a long time. Not to mention there were somethings it just couldn't portray. Like his utter disbelief.

[ _Magic_ ] they gesture with a shrug. [ _Help make you light and keep balance_ ] they looked embarrassed. Something told him their control over their magic was pretty weak. It would explain the mud all over them. They probably tripped a few dozen times from a sudden jump in weight, or a shift of the balance on their back. Sans remembered when he was still getting used to magic, it was pretty rough sailing for a few years until he just developed his own little tricks to help him.

"I'll tutor you later," he winks. They nod thankfully. "Another thing," Sans says after a long pause. "I was thinking Al could help, but..." He glances around the room. He didn't want to tell the child right out that he didn't trust their new friend.

"She is... A bit much sometimes," they offer. He nods slowly. That wasn't the exact point, but it was close. "Maybe with just... The dust?"

"That's what I was thinkin', she's real good with building. A real techy. Maybe we'd be able to figure out how to make things stable but it would take us forever. She already has everything here..."

"I will... Ask her later," they smile reassuringly, easing his soul. He wasn't bad at delicate topics like that, but it wasn't really his place to tell the lizard they could bring back her love and then not tell her how. Frisk was so much better at being compassionate; he was just too apathetic for it. Sans could handle the finer details once the monster was calm. The skeleton nods in agreement, gesturing them over. They hug him without prompt and he pets their hair.

"I'm okay bud, really. It hurts a bit, but right now I think that's it. We'll keep track, okay? I'll tell you if something feels wrong," he murmurs in their ear. "You'll be a doc by the end of all this. I'll have to go to you for check ups," he huffs a laugh, feeling them do the same. They both had some twisted sense of humor after their hell of resets, so something as simple as calling this child his personal doctor to 'patch him up' seemed hilarious. He didn't even need to say the full joke for them to get it.

"S-Sans? Frisk?" Alphys calls, waddling out of her room. "Is something w-wrong?" rubbing the sleep from her eyes, the woman seems to miss that the two are hugging long enough for them to separate. God only knows what she would think of them being caught like that. Her fantasies surely didn't end with her shows. The last thing he needed was fanfiction of him and the human circling the Undernet.

"Nah, just didn't want to wake you. Had something to ask is all," he shrugs, leaning his elbows on his knees to watch the lizard shift under his gaze. "In fact, I think the kids got a question for you too Al," he smirks at the humans grumpy look. They were exhausted, and now they would have to deal with an emotional monster. He snickered at them. With a glare, they flash some signs at him. "You want me to what?" they repeat their gestures. They wanted him to talk for them. He matches their glare. Of course they'd drag him into this. Karma.

"What is it F-Frisk? U-um you know I can't read Sign language, I'm s-sorry..." Alphys stutters worriedly. It no doubt bothered her that she couldn't understand the human. Most couldn't. Only Sans and Papyrus could, as far as he knew anyway. Maybe the queen and king could but there was no telling.

"It's okay Al, I'll translate. They don't feel up to talkin' I guess," he rolls his eyes at their triumphant smirk. Jerk kid. "They said they have something delicate to bring up, and that you should probably sit down for it. I'm just translating so don't ask me the questions. All iguana do is help," he chuckles at her red face. Alphys wasn't one for his puns but he didn't mind her getting mad. He didn't mind making anyone mad though.

The two sit on the ground with Sans to the side and between them. He had to see both of them but refused to move himself, so they sat slightly angled to him. With a definitive nod, Frisk began.

"We have this project we want to start," Sans translates. "We need your help. Frisk knows all the little things, but there's one big part we can't do alone," Sans glances at Alphys. The lizard is leaning forward intently, glancing between the two curiously. No doubt wondering why Sans can understand them but she can't. There was no point in explaining. "Al, I'm not gonna say what they want until you promise me you wont flip your lid," Sans warns the monster. She nods eagerly, promising to contain herself. The skeleton has a feeling that her promise doesn't matter though. "Alright, what'd you say buddy?" the human repeats their gestures for him.

"We want to bring our friends back," he states, not pausing to gauge the woman's reaction. "We have a set of theories to do it, but we can't without one specific thing and we don't have the knowledge to do it. Frisk thinks we can bring everyone back, if we're right about everything, but we need to start somewhere. You a'ight?" The skeleton leans back from the lizards dangerous look.

"This is not something to just dabble in, Sans. You know that," her glare was directed at him alone, her usual stutter gone in her anger. Funny what a strong enough emotion or distraction to just negate a simple nervous tick.

"Don't look at me, it was the kids design not mine. It ain't dabblin' Al, they've got solid theories. We just need your help with one aspect and that's it," he waves his hands, taking over the explanation. True to her word, Alphys toned down her reactions very well. She was a lot calmer the he had anticipated at least. It wasn't until he told her that the rest of it was something they couldn't explain to her that she lost her temper.

"What do you mean I can't know?! They're my friends too!" she screeched, standing to confront the skeleton. Frisk smoothly intercepts with calming gestures, gently leading the woman back to the ground.

"It is very dangerous," they explain. "You do your part... Because we can't. Without you... We can not... Finish everything," they smile, stroking the lizards arm. They explain that if something happens to one of them, the other can continue, but if something happens to her there was no hope. The skeleton nodded in approval. The kid was pretty good at making a slight twist of truth seem so obvious that it appeared the full truth. Alphys didn't suspect a thing. "It is safer... For everyone if you... Focus on one part... And we focus on the other. It's good team... Work," the monster nods solemnly.

It takes some soothing and calming words to coax the monster into agreeing to help, but she eventually does. Frisk looks relieved when they hear the good news, and excitedly pats Sans' leg to portray their excitement. He laughs and messes their hair in response, equally excited. Without prompt, they all decide to start in the morning, each of them terribly exhausted. Frisk gladly hops back to the nest of blankets to sleep in front of the tv, passing out almost instantly. Alphys follows to do the same, but not before Sans stops her with a quiet hum.

"You want to w-watch how they got you here?" he nods, drawing a sigh from the woman. "O-okay, just don't tell th-them I showed you," he makes a half hearted X over his chest in a mock swearing and she huffs in response. It takes mere moments for Alphys to call up the file on her computer and hand him a set of headphones to go over his skull so the tapes wouldn't wake anyone. She waddles off to bed with a wave. With a nod, Sans leans back to watch what happened.


End file.
